Renegade
by OmegaCrusader
Summary: First set after the events of Horizon, a usually adamant and ruthless Commander Shepard finds himself pondering on what went wrong with his life. Follows an Earthborn/Ruthless/Renegade Shepard and a Shepard/Miranda relationship
1. Chapter One: Sunless Horizon

**Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect, Commander Shepard, or any references to the series below.**

**This is just a series of chapters I did following up on my Renegade Shepard's gameplay. I tried to make it as accurate to my playthrough as possible, so if you see any actions you disagree with, then let it be known that this is just how I thought a Renegade Shep would act.  
**

* * *

**CHAPTER ONE: SUNLESS HORIZON**  
_ "Regret for wasted time is more wasted time."_  
- **Mason Cooley**

Shepard splashed some water on his face and stared at his scarred self in the mirror. The slightly gaping wounds on his cheeks and forehead pulsed with an orange-red glow that felt purely menacing. Grabbing a towel and wiping the water off, he put it back on its rack and walked back into his cabin. He stopped when he saw the picture of Ashley Williams sitting on his desk; a personal touch.  
He walked forward and lifted up the photo and gazed at it, taking in all the little details he had forgotten - the precise way she wore her black hair, the scratches on her pink-white armor. Shepard set it down and closed his eyes in a sort of painful regret. It had been two years. What could he'd've expected? That Ash would just welcome him back with open arms, still have a place for him in her life? Rejoin the squad and spend a bit of time in his cabin again? She'd say, "Don't leave me again, skipper," and everything would be alright? No, it had been two years. Two years. The little detail that kept nagging Shepard.  
He couldn't really call it wasted time, since he had died, and really couldn't do much about it. In fact, he should've thanked Cerberus for fixing him up. No. He shouldn't.  
Though Cerberus had brought him back, maybe it would've been better if they hadn't. You can deal with a person's death and move on, but when you find out that that person didn't die, that he's alive ...  
"Well, doesn't that change the whole equation," Shepard murmured softly to himself, finishing the thought. Not to mention he hadn't exactly appreciated the comments about dying and his apparent resurrection, from, well, everyone.  
When Ash had joined the squad two years ago, she'd changed everything. Changed his ruthless personality and reformed him into a better person. But her absence made him ... inexorable. Cold. Stony steel, like old times. His old, 'Just-get-the-job-done-regardless-of-all-other-secondary-factors' personality had returned.  
God, he needed a drink. Maybe head down to Dark Star and pick up some ryncol. Yeah, it might half-kill him, he wasn't a Krogan, but who cared? He needed to blur his senses. Fog his mind. Dull the pain. No, no. He needed somebody to talk to. Yeoman Chambers? Nah; not a fan of 'professional' psychology. Joker? Good guy, but probably too busy on the bridge. He had been meaning to talk to ...  
"Miranda," he finished the thought, his voice ringing levelly. Not exactly a glass of ryncol, but something about the cool, calm-and-collected, femme fatale-type Cerberus operative reminded him of Ashley. He didn't know why. Maybe the slight similarities in appearance, or the care she appeared to have to Shepard, more than others. Confusing, everything was. Thoughts were moving at light-speed, from old, scarred Garrus, masked Tali, friendly old Anderson, Udina, who thought the sun shone out of his ass, crippled, sarcastic Joker, Sovereign, the geth, the Illusive Man, the Collectors, two years of lost time, and ...  
Nothing, just nothing. Loneliness.  
"Is that it, skipper?" he imagined Ash saying. "You just want to be loved again?"  
He snorted derisively to himself, waving the voices away.  
Love, he had decided long ago after graduating from N7, was pointless. An emotion that, at worst, could hurt more than it could heal. Break more than it could make.  
"Then, what were you feeling two years ago, skipper?"  
Nothing, absolutely nothing.  
"Just nothing, skipper?"  
Yeah, just nothing. Ash had no impact on his life.  
"Are you sure about that?"  
Absolutely. If Joker was crippled, he was damn sure.  
The voices died away, like ghosts from the past fading to mist.  
"No more of this sentimental crap," he muttered to himself. He pressed the photo face-down, and decided to just ...  
"Let it go, skipper."  
At least she was right about one thing.

* * *

"Commander," Miranda addressed respectfully. "What can I do for you?"  
Shepard walked forward and stood in front of the Cerberus Operative's desk. "You have a minute, Miranda?"  
Miranda was silent for a very brief moment. "Of course. I'd been meaning to speak with you in fact." She stood up, walking slowly, deeper into the room, and sat down on a Cerberus-colored couch. Shepard followed suit, sitting opposite to her.  
Miranda's dark eyes, contrasting with her fair skin, studied the battered and scarred Commander for a short moment before speaking again.  
"I ..." she started. "wanted to apologize. I didn't fully believe you'd be up to the task. And it seems I was wrong."  
Shepard knew what she was talking about. The personal favor for her a while back, relocating her sister, who was in danger from their tyrant of a father.  
"Frankly, based on what I've seen, I wish Cerberus had recruited you earlier."  
Shepard spoke in a collected manner. "I wish your people had made the offer," he replied smoothly.  
"I looked at your track record as you hunted Saren," Miranda referenced the turian and rogue Spectre Shepard had been tailing across the galaxy two years ago, who had gathered a geth army of sorts. "I saw the choices you faced. You'd fit in fine here.  
"And we'd be lucky to have you. Too many join us out of simple xenophobia. We need more people here for the right reasons."  
Shepard hunched towards her, eying her with an unreadable, but slightly mistrustful, accusatory look in his eyes, which glowed slightly red.  
"I saw your bases years ago," he murmured neutrally. "You were using rachni, Thorian creepers, even husks to make your own army."  
"The husks were already dead, the Thorian creatures were mindless, and the rachni were abandoned once we understood their intelligence," Miranda counteracted swiftly, brushing a lock of black hair from her face. "We weren't breeding an army, we were breeding expendable shock troops for high-risk scenarios.  
"How many soldiers died in Saren's attack on Eden Prime? How many would've lived if we'd had just a dozen rachni soldiers on our side?"  
Shepard quickly changed the topic. "With your intelligence, you could've landed any job you wanted; why choose this?"  
Miranda sat a little straighter, flickering, changing emotions flashing in her eyes. "Because I still envy the time Mordin spent with the Special Tasks Group, working with people as smart as he was." She spoke about the genius salarian scientist that was currently working with Shepard as an addition to their squad, working on technology to counteract the Collector's technology.  
"Cerberus never tells me something is impossible. They give me my resources and say, 'Do it.'  
"And they've given you even more; a new life, a new ship, and the Illusive Man's personal attention."  
"The best thing he did was to put you on my squad," Shepard said, somewhat sincerely.  
"You'd've done fine without me," Miranda waved Shepard's clumsy attempts away. "I may not have believed it before, but ..." She left the thought temporarily unfinished.  
"I don't have what you have; that fire that makes someone willing to follow you into hell itself." she sighed. Standing up, she strolled over to the window, staring out in the dark void of space.  
"And you've done more than I could. Despite everything my father did to make me perfect, you're ... you're the best humanity has to offer." She sounded almost ... almost jealous. But there was more regret in her voice.  
Shepard knew Miranda could feel resentful of herself, at times. She wasn't really 100% human - she was engineered from genetics, a power-hungry tyrant of a father merely wanting an empire risen from a genetically-perfected daughter. Everything she had was given to her. Shepard sometimes thought of her as 'The Perfect Woman'.  
"You always bring up your genetic tailoring. It really bothers you, doesn't it?" Shepard said, a kinder tone in his voice.  
"This is what I am, Shepard. I can't hide it; the intelligence, the looks, even the biotics - he paid for all of that." she murmured, closing her eyes in resentfulness as Shepard stood up and walked closer to Miranda.  
"Every one of your accomplishments is due to your skill. The only thing I can take credit for are my mistakes." she continued. At this moment, Shepard heard what he presumed to be just a thread of jealousy laced into her tone.  
Shepard almost smirked. "Wait a minute," he said almost jokingly. "Are you ... jealous?"  
"Don't be absurd," Miranda retaliated smoothly, though Shepard could've sworn the slightest blushing of cheeks was barely apparent, but still there. But Shepard was on a roll.  
"The genetic mutt that the Illusive Man put in charge," Shepard challenged slickly, walking closer to Miranda, circling her like a shark. "Man, that must sting."  
"First, it's not a competition. Second, based on your combat records, you're practically a perfect bloody human specimen." She followed his movements and paced casually along as Shepard continued to stare at her with his red-tinged eyes; usually cold, but less so tonight, regardless of the sarcasm that dripped in his half-taunts.  
"Perfect human specimen, huh?" Shepard said smoothly, a dash of interest flickering in those crimson eyes of his, smirking as he abandoned the shark maneuver and walked closer to Miranda, inches from her.  
"Don't get cocky," the operative replied. "I'm the one who rebuilt you, remember? And I do damn good work."  
"You certainly do," Shepard murmured slickly, before walking right up to her in one swift motion.  
Frankly, he wasn't exactly sure who made the move first. Hell, maybe they could feel the other's common interests and it just happened. Miranda held Shepard's shoulder with one hand, the other touching his chest, both walked closer to the other, and Miranda kissed him - or vice versa -, holding it for a few seconds, before Miranda broke away, perhaps realizing the enormity of what she - or Shepard - had just done.  
"What the hell was that?" she mumbled, embarrassed. Her usual cool and collected outlook faded, and Shepard saw the real Miranda Lawson that she never revealed - til now.  
"Okay, this doesn't mean anything," she said, half-talking to herself. "We just ... God, I need to think. I'll ... I'll talk to you later." She strolled back over to her desk, but halfway there, she turned around and saw Shepard's grinning - and pleased - countenance.  
"And stop smiling, damn it!" she said, almost laughing at his half-ridiculous expression.  
Shepard strolled out of her office without a word. He felt better than he had in a long time.  
"What the hell are you doing, skipper?" he muttered to himself.  
He just didn't know. But damn, did he feel good.  
"Better than a ryncol," he decided, and walked over to the elevator to catch a night of sleep back up in his cabin.


	2. Chapter Two: Dark Side of the Moon

**Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect, Commander Shepard, or any references to the series below.**

**The second part of _Renegade_ continues with Shepard investigating the Derelict Reaper. Kinda crappy, this chapter was, in my opinion. Then again I am always undermining my work.  
**

* * *

**CHAPTER TWO: DARK SIDE OF THE MOON**  
_"Being prepared for loss is never the same as being ready for it."_  
-**Randy K. Milholland**

He'd been resting on his bed for the past half an hour, unable to sleep, deep in thought about the message he had received from Ash not too long ago.  
_ "Just stay alive out there...skipper. I can't lose you a second time." _  
Grimacing, Shepard blocked the thoughts from his mind, turning over on his bed. After a minute of inability to go to sleep, Shepard finally managed to drift into oblivion.  
"Commander!" Jolted awake by Joker's voice, Shepard cursed and staggered over to the intercom.  
"What is it?" he snarled.  
"We made it to the Derelict Reaper. Entering Mnemosyne's orbit now."  
Shepard sighed and sat down on his chair, hunching forward.  
"Alright then. I'll get a squad to come with me in five."  
"Okay. See you down there, Commander."  
Shepard turned on the intercom to broadcast throughout the entire ship.  
"This is Commander Shepard speaking," he said in his most boldest voice. "I want Operative Lawson and Officer Vakarian to meet me at the bridge in five. We are approaching the Derelict Reaper."  
Turning away from the intercom, Shepard walked over to his armor locker and took out his usual N7 armor, colored crimson on black. Pulling on his Kuwashii Visor, he slung the M-98 Widow Sniper Rifle over his shoulder and strapped the M-6 Carnifex Handcannon to his hip holster. As the rest of his usual ordinance was strapped on his back, Shepard walked out of his cabin.  
"Just another day in the office," he mumbled to himself.

* * *

Shepard jumped out of the UT-47 Kodiak Drop Shuttle as Miranda and Garrus followed suit. Holding his rifle levelly, Shepard walked cautiously through the cold, eerie halls, the pounding of his heart the loudest thing he could hear.  
He wasn't really afraid of the place, but the Derelict Reaper just felt ... wrong. Shadows seem to flicker, forming shapes he could not recognize. He found it hard to concentrate, like when he had a headache, only the difference being that it wasn't much as pain as it was just his mind feeling blurry and disoriented.  
"Dear God ..." Shepard muttered softly in disgust as he noted the bloodied corpses strewn against one wall.  
"Did the geth do all of this?" Miranda murmured.  
"Hell if I know," Shepard blinked, eying the bodies cautiously. Somehow, he felt that it probably wasn't just the geth. Or maybe it wasn't the geth - just the Collectors.  
As they entered the airlock, a sudden violent rumbling shook through the entire Derelict Reaper. The shaking, however, ended as quickly and abruptly as it had started.  
"What the hell was that?" Shepard barked on the radio link to Joker.  
"The Reaper's kinetic barriers just went up!" Joker replied, an edge of panic in his voice.  
"So, we're stuck here now?" Shepard demanded, impatience and disgust dripping in his voice.  
"Not necessarily," the AI voice of EDI droned. "I have detected a sudden heat spike within the center of the Reaper. That must be the mass effect core reactivating. If you can destroy it, the kinetic barriers will be down. However, the Reaper will lose orbit and drop towards Mnemosyne."  
"So we have to run like hell after destroying the mass effect core," Shepard intoned. "Got it."  
The small squad paced forward as the airlock doors opened, revealing a giant cave-like structure, the contradicting air of 'unnaturally natural' marred only by the steel walkways and Cerberus terminals.  
Curiosity piqued, Shepard walked towards one of the consoles and saw a video recording of two Cerberus researchers talking with each other.  
"You're married?" one of the men asked incredulously. "You never mentioned that."  
"Katie had anger management issues." the other man explained. "When my brother got married, the best man tried to hit on her. She kicked him down the church steps."  
"Wha-?" the first man's mouth was open in shock. "Katie's my wife! I must have told you the story."  
"No," the second man said firmly. "I know my wife. I remember - that day was the only time I saw her wear stockings."  
"Yeah. The kind with seams up the back. That's what I remember, too."  
"What the hell is this? How can we remember the same thing?"  
The recording ended there.  
"Seems like the Reaper was messing with their minds," Garrus noted nervously. Shepard thought warily of his disorienting headache he was experiencing at the moment, and the vague shapes he was continually seeing.  
"Let's just get in, grab the IFF, and get the hell out of this place. It gives me the creeps." Shepard said bluntly.  
As the squad moved down the ramp, a familiar, raspy groan sounded, and a thin white and blue claw of a hand groped around as it struggled to pull the owner of the hand up.  
As the cacophony of guttural groans increased, Shepard instantly knew what these things were.  
"We've got contact!" the squad leader shouted as he aimed his sniper at one of the nearby husks. Shepard had encountered these things two years ago; they were the bodies of humans, impaled upon large gray metallic spikes that humans called Dragon's Teeth. When the Dragon's Teeth retracted, the corpses would become shells of their former selves, mindless shuffling creatures resilient to physical damage and heavy-hitters. Groups of them were hard to handle.  
Shepard pulled the trigger of the sniper, the bullet piercing the husk's cranium and killing it instantly. Swiftly changing from the M-98 Widow sniper rifle to the M-9 Tempest Submachine gun, he let loose a burst of rounds at the closest husk, not daring to take his finger off the trigger until it was dead.  
Being an Infiltrator, Shepard had prowess with Tech powers as well. He shot a large ball of flames at a group of husks and watched as they incinerated into dust. He was vaguely aware of Garrus firing his M-97 Viper at a few Abominations and Miranda tearing apart husks with biotics.  
After less than a minute of intense warfare against the mindless creatures, every husk in sight was torn apart.  
"This definitely confirms the geth were here. Or it could be the Collectors using the geth's husks." Shepard said, holstering the M-9. "Come on; let's just keep moving."  
Before they had really gotten far, two husks slumped dead on the ground, their craniums exploding. Garrus trotted forward and examined the corpses.  
"That's a clean shot," the turian noted, a slight note of awe in his voice. "I've only seen Thane do that before."  
"There's a sniper around here somewhere," Miranda said.  
"It could probably be one of the Cerberus crew, but our first priority isn't to look for survivors." Shepard said firmly.  
As Shepard took the lead and continued to the next airlock, Miranda eyed the squad leader. The commander always seemed so ruthless, so determined to get through the mission that he wouldn't let any other factors risk the mission. Not exactly evil, but Shepard wasn't a great heroic paragon of justice either. Little did any of Shepard's team members realize that the commander wasn't as adament as he seemed.  
"Every sweet has its sour; every evil has its good," Shepard murmured softly in a barely audible whisper, as though he knew what Miranda thinking.  
The commander approached a locked door and began rewiring the circuits, finishing as quickly as he had started.  
"Come on," he said, smirking a little. "Let's go show the geth how we do things on the dark side of the moon."

* * *

Shepard awoke to a blinding flash of light and a face he couldn't exactly make out.  
"Wake up, Commander," a voice said insistently.  
Shepard shook his groggy head and turned over, trying to get some more sleep.  
"No thanks," he thought to himself. "Just tell Joker to wake me up when the IFF gets installed."  
"Commander; wake up." the same voice again. More persistent this time.  
Shepard heard the hiss of a door open, two sets of footsteps clodding against the floor, and a female voice ask, "How is he?"  
"Ribcage suffered a few fractures and his left arm is a bit twisted. He also suffered some damage to his head. Enough to render him unconscious. The Kuwashii visor he wears sacrifices protection for weapon accuracy. Remind him to get better equipment."  
"At least he made it out alive," a male voice intoned. "That final swarm of husks before we reached the combat cockroach ... I know Shepard. He can only take so much damage before he really breaks down."  
"Will he wake up soon?" the female voice asked sincerely.  
Shepard heard footsteps approaching him. "Shepard; can you hear me?"  
Groaning, the commander snapped open his eyes and blinked a few times before trying to sit up.  
He was inside the medical bay. The voice that was trying to wake him up belonged to Dr Chakwas, one of the original Normandy's crew. Miranda was standing next to him, and Garrus was near the back, eying the commander with a concerned look.  
Shepard hurt all over. His chest felt compressed, his left arm hurt like hell, and his head felt like he was having the worst hangover of his life. He swung his legs over the side of the cot and rested his head on his hand.  
"What happened?" he asked, not looking up.  
"We found the strange geth, brought him back to the Normandy ..." Garrus started.  
"While we were heading back to the Kodiak, there was a swarm of husks that overwhelmed you." Miranda filled in.  
"Managed to take care of the husks, but you were barely alive when we got aboard the Normandy," Garrus continued.  
"Rushed you to the medical bay, and Chakwas took care of you. You've been out for a day already." Miranda finished.  
A strange silence filled the medical bay and Shepard sighed through his nostrils and looked up. His scars had opened up even more and flared in a vicious hue of crimson. His eyes resembled that of the Illusive Man - but red instead of blue, and menacingly intimidating. The large bruise on the side of his head, the bloodstained bandages on his left arm, and the thick bandages wrapped around his ribcage made him look like even more battle-worn and malicious ... not that he was exactly the harbinger of malice or anything. But anybody who knew Shepard before his alleged death would be surprised at how the man had changed.  
But those crimson eyes of his showed a sort of tiredness and exasperation, as though he was just tired of fighting. He quickly ended the silence with another topic.  
"What about that geth that was shooting at the husks?" he inquired. "I also noticed his N7 armor. Anything about that?"  
"We can discuss it in the debriefing room. Providing you're in a condition to get over there." Miranda added, noting Shepard's condition.  
"I'm fine," Shepard said bluntly, standing up. "Let's go."

* * *

He'd chosen to send the geth to Cerberus for that massive cash bounty they had. Not to mention that he was wary of the geth. Besides, whoever had heard of a friendly geth before? Nevertheless, Shepard felt null as he walked over to Miranda's office, intent on following up on their earlier conversation.  
"Just think calm thoughts, skipper," he mumbled to himself, not intent on making himself anymore intimidating than usual. He could feel the scars glow less, but his face wouldn't be exactly perfect.  
As he entered Miranda's office, she looked up and must've noted the look on his face and interest in his eyes.  
"I suppose we should talk," she murmured as she got out of her chair to face Shepard.  
"I don't know what this is!" she said rapidly, almost panic-like, a hint of exasperation in his voice. "If this is just stress, or blowing off steam, I ..."  
"I care about you, Miranda," Shepard said softly, feeling the glow in his scars die away almost completely. "And I think you care about me."  
"This is no time for emotional entanglement!" Miranda retaliated sharply. She walked over towards the edge of her bed and sat down, Shepard following. Her demeanor broke and her voice gradually became more soft and quiet. "You and I know more about the Collectors than anyone else; We know how unlikely it is that we're coming back alive!  
"What idiot bunch of hormones decided that now was a great time for love?" she asked rhetorically, jokingly, almost smiling as she looked up at Shepard.  
Shepard smirked devilishly. "Who said anything about love? I'm just trying to get you in bed."  
Miranda scoffed but smiled a little. "You ass," she said.  
"Come on, Miranda; you want this." Shepard continued smoothly.  
"Yeah. I do." Miranda's voice was incredibly soft and barely audible. "So don't die! You promise me, damnit!"  
"I died once already," Shepard said as Miranda got up. "I don't plan on doing it again."  
Miranda paused for a moment, before continuing. "Give me some time," she said slowly. "When I'm ready, I'll come by, okay?"  
She walked back to her desk without saying a word, and Shepard decided it was time to leave.

* * *

**A/N - Yes, I really did send Legion to Cerberus. I know, I know, but, it was a RENEGADE option!**


	3. Chapter Three: Null Void

**Disclaimer: I do not own Mass Effect, Commander Shepard, or any references to the series below.**

**Chapter three shows what happens after the Collectors abduct the Normandy SR-2****'s crew (all except Joker). More emotional-like, and finally gets to the romance scene. Doesn't get explicit however, if that's what you had in mind.**

**

* * *

****CHAPTER THREE: NULL VOID**  
_ "You always pass failure on the way to success._"  
-**Mickey Rooney**

Anger and frustration drove him upon the edge of madness. Shepard was absolutely fuming. He was angry - but not at Joker. No, he wasn't angry at Joker for losing the entire crew to a Collector raid. He was angry at himself for ... for his incompetence.  
"How can you say that, skipper? You can't blame every mistake on yourself. You aren't perfect. No one is."  
Maybe she was right. But it was his duty to protect the crew, regardless of his ruthless demeanor, regardless if everyone thought that his philosophy was that 'Some people have to be left behind'.  
He had to get his crew back. It's what ...  
"It's what Ash would've done, is it, skipper?" Shepard muttered to himself, smiling a bit. "No one gets left behind."  
He stopped pacing around and looked at the photo; he had put it back in its original place after Ash sent him that message, when he was just thinking of what could have been. But should he still dwell on the past?  
"Face it," a harsher part of him snarled. "So what if you're a completely ruthless bastard that doesn't give a damn if some worthless people get killed during a mission? That's who you are. You can't let some lower-ranked gunnery chief muddle your life, and I don't give a damn if you slept with her. You are your own man now. Make decisions _for the greater good_. If you try to save the crew, and if you succeed, but die in the process, then, hell, I'd like to see THEM save the galaxy from the Collectors and Harbinger."  
Maybe it was right. Maybe. Not to mention that EDI could pretty much replace the entire crew. But ...  
Shepard walked out of his cabin and decided to just roam the ship for a while, clear his mind.  
As the elevator began its descent, he thought about just WHAT went wrong?  
"I should've let Joker dock somewhere before we boarded and left with the Kodiak instead of leaving them so close to the Galactic core, where the Collectors could easily tag and bag 'em in a repeat of two years before, or ..."  
"Or what? There's nothing you could've done. In fact, it's Joker's fault - he didn't listen to EDI when she was warning him about the IFF transmitting the Normandy's location." That same harsh and ruthless tone.  
The elevator stopped at level three, Crew's Quarters. As he walked around, Shepard noticed the emptiness in the ship - despite the fact that the Normandy could do fine without its crew with EDI on board, he'd rather prefer actual humans with real personalities around. Mess Sergeant Gardner wasn't cooking up Chef's Surprise, nor was Dr Chakwas busy at the Medical Bay. None of the crew was sitting around, chatting, eating, or just lounging around, taking a break they probably all deserved. Before, Shepard had never really got to know all his crew; now he was regretting it. If he was too late to save them from the Collectors, he couldn't even have the decency to honor the fallen.  
"Like you did with me, Commander."  
Shepard snapped his head around, but he couldn't see anyone. No, probably just imagining things. He hadn't had sleep for a while already. But he could've sworn ... Nah. Just ghosts of the past. Literal ghosts, that is.  
"Damnit, Alenko," Shepard murmured softly. "You giving me a guilt trip at the worst possible time; can't I just have a minute of love instead of hate?"  
Shepard remembered the aftermath of the events on Virmire; the entire crew was in shock after losing Kaiden. Shepard remembered how the usually sarcastic, brittle-boned Joker, so cocky and composure witty, was completely silent after Kaiden's death. Chawkas just lowered her head, resting it upon her palm, and Shepard heard sobbing. Ashley couldn't even look at him for two days before she plucked up the courage to hug him and kiss him on the cheek before leaving. Those were hard times. For all of them.  
"I don't regret a thing, Commander." were his last words. Losing the crew ... would be like losing Kaiden all over again.  
Shepard stopped in front of Miranda's office, contemplating over the situation. He just needed a bit of comfort ...  
"What the hell," he muttered to himself, waving a hand and opening the door.  
"Have a minute?" Shepard asked smoothly, placing a hand on Miranda's desk.  
"Tying up a few loose ends with Cerberus. But I haven't forgotten our earlier discussion. I think we're both crazy," Miranda added with a coy smile. "But if you're still interested ..."  
"Oh, I'm _definitely _interested," Shepard smirked, scratching at the stubble on his chin, feeling his the intense glow of his scars die away, same as everytime he had an encounter like this with Miranda.  
"Then I'll come by the next time things are quiet," Miranda finished, a seductive look apparent on her face.  
Pleased with the outcome, Shepard gave a final grin before turning around and leaving. As the doors behind him closed with a hiss, Shepard felt the grin on his face die quickly away. He shook his head as though trying to clear his mind. He couldn't let these ... discussions cloud his mind from the mission, though some distraction could be nice once in a while, just to relieve a bit of stress. He was about to head into the Omega 4 Relay, from which no ship - besides the Collectors' - had ever returned from. This was a suicide mission, and there was no guarantee that any of them would get out alive. But, hell, if he was going to die, he might as well die happy - or at least happier than he had been in a long time.  
As he walked out of the elevator onto level 2, he stepped in front of the Galaxy Map and began to detail the coordinates to the Omega 4 Relay.  
"IFF's installed, EDI?" Shepard asked.  
"The IFF has been installed and the Normandy is ready to enter the Omega 4 Relay. Please allow for at least twelve to nineteen hours of time to enter the Omega Nebula system. As a note of warning, Commander, once we enter the Omega 4 Relay, there will be no turning back until we finish the mission. Are you certain you wish to proceed?"  
"The Collectors are about to find out what happens when you piss me off," Shepard snarled, the faces of his crew members flashing in his mind. "Not again," he murmured more softly.  
"Affirmative, Commander. Setting course for Omega Nebula system." EDI intoned.  
Shepard nodded and turned around, preparing to leave. As he approached the elevator, the doors opened before he could swipe a hand in front of it, and out stepped Miranda Lawson.  
"Oh; pardon me, Commander," she murmured, stopping as Shepard tried to get into the elevator. She stepped forward and placed a hand on his chest, moving forward and whispering into his ear.  
"I've cleared the engine room; meet me there in five minutes."  
She stepped away as Shepard smirked devilishly. "Should've known you wouldn't settle for the Captain's Quarters," he said smoothly as she walked back into the elevator.  
"I only settle for the best," she murmured, entering the elevator, winking seductively as the doors closed shut.  
Shepard grinned like a shark. Hell, he was probably going to die anyway. Why not die happy, as he'd said earlier? Regardless, he was going to enjoy the time before the suicide mission.

* * *

Shepard was gently stirred by Miranda at least six hours later, fully-dressed and about to leave the engine room. Apparently, they were around nine hours away from the Omega 4 Relay, and Miranda thought Shepard would like to get a decent night of sleep up in his cabin. "With your clothes on," she added jokingly.  
Grinning in response, Shepard was leaving the engine room a few minutes later, pulling on his Cerberus-tailored jacket as he passed Tali, who gave him a look that Shepard couldn't see under her helmet. Grunt was pacing the halls and did a very similar thing as to humans raising their eyebrows. The krogan didn't say anything, but Shepard felt that rumors could probably leak out very quickly aboard the Normandy.  
The Normandy was still as silent as ever, regardless. As Shepard approached the bridge to talk with Joker, the helmsman spun around on his chair, as though expecting the commander.  
"So, uh, Commander," he began. "We're almost halfway to the Omega 4 Relay, and, y'know, crew's pretty stressed out, sure we all have our, ah, own 'methods' or relieving stress or nervousness and whatnot, so ... Ah, yeah, just really wanted to say that."  
"Joker ..." Shepard started.  
"No, no, it's not like I disapprove or anything, we might not come back from this mission, well, alive that is, and, y'know, and I'm sure we all have things we'd like to do before we send ourselves to almost certain death. So to speak." Joker added. "So, ah, we're nine hours away, most of the crew's just getting a bit of rest, or training, or praying or meditating, if you're Thane or Samara, and so on." Joker paused, grimacing. "I just hope we don't have to lose another Normandy. I don't want to watch it crumble, at least not in Collector territory. I hope we won't have to have a repeat of ... y'know. Don't want it to happen again." Joker quickly fell silent.  
"Neither do I," Shepard said neutrally, crossing his arms as he looked out into the void of outer space. "I died once, but after I'm finished kicking Harbinger where it hurts, I plan to live to tell the tale. And I'm not just trying to get cocky. Ah, what the hell. Maybe I am." He paused for a moment, lowering his head. "There's a difference between being hopeful and being ridiculous; frankly, I'm not exactly sure if I crossed that line yet. The chances of surviving are ... slim. If a few of us die, but most survive, then that's a miracle. If all of us die taking out the base, well ... That's what we planned."  
"What if all of us survive?" Joker asked.  
Shepard scoffed derisively. "Looks like you have to find out if you crossed that line yet, Joker. Okay, let's assume we all survive, the Normandy doesn't even have a scratch, we all barely fired bullets, and Harbinger got his ass kicked. That would probably be divine intervention. Or maybe we're dreaming that we all made it because we're all dead."  
"No need to be such a pessimist, Commander; just trying to keep all options available." Joker mumbled.  
"Keep doing that; I'll be in my cabin if you need me."

* * *

  
Just entering his cabin felt like entering his own damned coffin. The deathly silence was basically chilling, almost like the calmness as your life flashes between your eyes and you finally hear the shot that takes you out. Despite everything, Shepard was 90% sure that he wasn't going to live through this, and same went for his crew. Well, he'd resigned himself to his own death if it meant saving the galaxy a long time ago. He didn't anticipate surviving, but he would be damned if he died before showing Harbinger just what happened when you messed with John-freaking-Shepard.  
Shepard lay back on his bed, folding his arms behind his head, sighing. Of all the people to be chosen for this mission, why him? Why couldn't some other orphan on Earth named John Shepard be recruited for N7? Of course, it had been his choice, but it wasn't like he had any other option besides staying in the slums and committing crimes. Why couldn't he have parents that cared for him, and had been raised in an average family? Why couldn't some spacer kid have the burden of tracking Saren around the galaxy? Why couldn't some random colonist take up arms to fight the geth? Why couldn't some other Spectre face the choice of leaving a squad member behind on Virmire? Why?  
Shepard wasn't a religious man, but unless it was the work of some godly, celestial force that had a plan to save the universe, and that Shepard was chosen to be the catalyst of that plan, he didn't see any other reason as to why all these things had happened to HIM, and he had ruled out bad luck.  
Shepard lazily flicked a hand at a nearby lamp post, playing around with his new biotic powers. What Cerberus had done with him had made him even stronger - installing implants and giving him biotic powers. Though he wasn't the best, he enjoyed using it in combat. He still preferred a bit of classic sniping-and-hacking action, though.  
There were just way too many loose ends he wanted to tie up before he went into the relay, but, as he had made the choice, there was no turning back now.  
He wanted to go back, find Ash, and say goodbye, but it was best if he didn't. He didn't want to reopen old wounds. Better to leave her thinking that her once-idolized Commander Shepard had just disappeared than to know the truth.  
"Ignorance is bliss, huh?" Shepard muttered, closing his eyes. He didn't open them again, and after a while, he turned over and fell asleep.

* * *

  
Shepard woke up after seven hours of sleep, taking the last two hours before heading into the relay to eat some breakfast, rest for a while, and then exercise. As he silently shuffled around, trying to make the most of the rations Gardner had been provided with, Joker's voice blared over the intercom.  
"Alright everybody, two hours before heading into the relay. If you have any last things you want to do with everybody else or aboard the Normandy, then there's nobody stopping you."  
Shepard sighed, gritting his teeth as he took his meal over to the table. The suicide mission was always on his mind, as it should have been, but for once he would just like to relax, thinking of things deliciously unimportant and idle around. But the time for that was lost. These were probably the last two hours that he would get to have free time.  
"A last message, perhaps," Shepard murmured, finishing his meal. It was decided.

* * *

  
_Anderson;_

_I don't give a damn if Udina could care less, but you're a man I trust, and I need to let you know what's going on.  
While the Council has been trying to make themselves look as good as possible, I've been flying around the entire goddamn galaxy looking into the abductions of the human colonies, and the information I've found is distressing. But I just hope that you'll believe every damned word in this message.  
The Collectors were behind the abductions, working for the Reapers. More shocking is that the Collectors were actually once the Protheans, their genetic data heavily rewritten. I know it sounds like bullshit, but if you don't believe this, no one will; that is, they won't believe it until they get attacked by the Collectors.  
The Collectors whip off the colonists to their homeland in the center of the galaxy and something happens to the colonists. We're still trying to find out what.  
That brings this message up to the present moment.  
As I'm typing this, the Normandy is heading off to the Omega 4 Relay to try and stop the Collectors. I don't think any of my squad including me will make it back alive; hence this message. As a final goodbye.  
God, Anderson, you have to try to warn them. I won't die fighting against the Collectors if that means they still eradicate the galaxy either way. If the council doesn't listen to reason, then ... I don't know.  
But, sooner or later, the facts will string up together, and it will be impossible to deny._

_- Shepard  
_  
Shepard sighed heavily as he finished typing in the message to Anderson. Short, but straight to the point. It wasn't how he had planned it, but he didn't have time to write another version. He clicked send and turned away from the terminal. As he walked over to his armor locker, putting it on and strapping his ordinance to his back, he heard Joker's voice on the intercom.  
"This is it; we're entering the Omega 4 Relay. If anybody has any final, short prayers to do, do it quickly."  
Shepard grimaced, but then quickly turned it into a sickly grin.  
"Let's go kick Harbinger's ass," he said softly, and trotted to the elevator.


End file.
